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by ObsidianCoffe



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Partial Nudity, just wanted to write them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianCoffe/pseuds/ObsidianCoffe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCree is back from a long mission and Hanzo is having so many feelings.</p>
<p>Inspired by artwork on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> I FINALLY WROTE MCHANZO JFC
> 
> This was inspired by http://jiihns.tumblr.com/post/147502088295/i-heard-you-guys-like-cheese-more-rp-doodles So please go ahead and check it out. They have amazing art.

“You haf’ta try their steaks sometime, you’d love them.”

It was late. Recon had dragged on for longer than usual since there was a lot of information they had to go through, and Winston had been adamant in registering everything as soon as possible. He understood. He did.

He just felt… really impatient.

“Hmm… Are they to blame for _this_ right here?”

_Things didn’t go_ exactly _as planned_ was just as poor as a reassurance as a cause of worry. It is not uncommon for things to go awry while on a mission, they know to expect the unexpected. The team designated was a capable one, so there was hardly a reason to worry.

…However.

Hana had had her fair share of fun with him and Genji. Whenever things got quiet in between the short missions they had while waiting back at the Gibraltar base, she always sprung into action. She particularly enjoyed spending time teasing them, talking their ears off with aimless chat, forcing them into silly activities and challenging them to games she clearly was better at.

In the end her efforts were successful. It was a great way to take their minds off of worrisome thoughts.

“Ah… uh, got no idea what’cha talking about pardner…”

Genji had been especially restless. His omnic teacher was one of the agents sent to Numbani, the first mission they were separated. He had been astoundingly bad at masking his concern and pretend it was purely the kind of feeling a student could harbor for his teacher. It reminded Hanzo of the time he had found a kitten abandoned in the street when they were children. Genji had been so obvious while trying to hide the creature, completely unlike the ninja he was training to be. It was the same as now: his love couldn’t have been more obvious if there was a cat meowing in his ropes.

But as time passed and the mission extended, Hanzo found he was able to relate to his brother more and more. When looked at rationally, two months wasn’t an unreasonable long time for an undercover operation, especially one in Numbani. But this is Jesse McCree they were talking about. The man stood out like a sore thumb even when dressed ‘casually’, with the most ridiculous t-shirt collection known to man and the pathological need to keep his hat on his head. It was understandable to worry about him given the nature of the job.

Not to say that he believed him to be incompetent. Far from that. But there were too many liabilities in this affair to let him sleep soundly at night.

It had been too long. He’d been gone for way too long.

But he was here now. He was here with him, fresh out of the shower Hanzo reluctantly had allowed him to take, still bandaged from the battle that _had not gone exactly as planned_ and smiling like the fool he was. The mop on his head wasn’t a disaster for once, wet and smelling like his own shampoo (and that should not have comforted him like it did) and on closer inspection Hanzo noted that he had trimmed his beard.

Carefully and with nimble fingers, he traced the underside of his jaw with soothing motions, causing Jesse’s eyes to drop in contentment almost immediately. He felt the pulse beating underneath the skin on the pad of his thumb, and slowly caressed down to his chest. There he could fiddle with the bushy hair, feel the solid warmth of Jesse’s muscles, the cadence of his breathing.

The prosthetic was gone, probably resting in scraps on one of Torbjörn’s workbenches. It had been the cost of saving Angela’s life in the heat of the battle, a sacrifice that had also ensured the result of the fight according to the rest team. McCree had jokingly said “Long as it’s not the right one, they can ’ve whatever part they want.”

Hanzo’s hands tightened almost imperceptibly. They couldn’t. _They wouldn’t._ Jesse was his teammate, his friend, his lover; all his to love, to care, to protect. As much as he reproached his own possessive impulses, there was no denying the bitterness that crept up his spine at the mere thought of Talon, or anyone truly, taking a part of Jesse, haunting him, _hurting him…_

And McCree could tell, answering the rigidness in his back with soft caress across the base of his backbone. Their eyes met, the same warm brown he had seen in dreams for weeks prior looked right back at him. Tired and with heavy bags underneath, but happy none the less.

He was there. He was real. He was okay.

For a moment emotion threatened to overtake him, so Hanzo let his hands slide down inconspicuously before he suddenly prodded with a finger at the fat that had accumulated on Jesse’s abdomen. The cowboy shrunk back as much as he could with a lap full of Shimada as a sheepish grin curved his mouth. Hanzo couldn’t help but return it.

He was back home.

“You have grown lazy.” The words would almost sound haughty if not for the fondness that coated his tone and reflected on his expression. No matter, they were in his room, away from any teammates he could pretend to be dignified in front of.

“Don’t remind me.” He answered, taking his left hand in his big paw, warm and rough. “Not when you’re here puttin’ me to shame.”

_He missed me_ , he realizes with a start, as if it hadn’t been the most logical, obvious thing to expect. As if he was unaware that Jesse McCree loved him, perhaps almost as much as Hanzo loved him back, as if their feelings, raw and desperate and soft and deep, weren’t on display for anyone to see.  

Swallowing hard, he let his head rest on that broad shoulder and submersed himself in the scent of tobacco, gunpowder and earth, with a hint of whiskey. There were so many unspoken words weighting in the air: _I love you, I missed you, I’m glad you are safe, I don’t ever want to let go of you, I should’ve been there watching over you, I can’t believe how much I love you._ But Jesse understood. He heard them loud and clear, as if Hanzo was screaming them to the top of his lungs.

And with a rough voice, low and filled with emotion, he answered.

“’m home.”

Breathing out, the weight in his heart loosened.

“Welcome back.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading through that! This is so short... and I think I could have done it better, but I wanted to write McHanzo for SO long and Real Life has been a biotch. So I don't think I can manage more than this unfortunately. 
> 
> As always, I'm at Obsidian-coffe on tumblr. Come and request things or just talk.


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